Inspiration
by nevershoutbribri
Summary: JONAS. "You're the meaning in my life. You're my inspiration." Joe/Macy. Sort of.


**A/N: Leaving it as "In progress."  
Not sure what to do with it yet. :P**

* * *

Joseph Lucas sat alone in the music room. It was the end of the day and mostly everyone had left by now. He drummed his pencil against the paper, leaning back and resting himself against the table. He sighed, closing his eyes. He imagined a beat and tapped his foot, but couldn't seem to think of any words. "Writers block?" A voice startled him. He jumped, making the chair slide. It would of fallen, if someone hadn't grabbed it. He looked up, meeting the eyes of Macy Misa. She smiled slightly.

"Ahh." He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess." She peeked at the paper, frowning at the scribbled out words.

"What was wrong with that line?" She asked, pointing to a line that read (under the scribbles): _Pick up all your tears, throw 'em in the backseat, leave without a second glance._

"I couldn't think of anything to go with it."

"Oh. Well, what are you trying to write about?"

"I dunno." He shrugged.

"You're writing with no inspiration?" She asked, confused.

"Well..."

"That's why you don't have anything." She nodded to add effect. "If you had inspiration, the words would just come out." She paused. "Like Nick and that one song. He wrote it in like, 10 minutes, right?"

"Yeah."

"Because?"

"He had inspiration." He mumbled.

"Exactly!" She clapped. "Go get inspired by something." She waved her hands.

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Don't musicians get inspired by weird stuff all the time? Like, a hot day." She cocked an eyebrow. He smiled.

"I guess that's true."

* * *

"No, no, no." He grumbled, crumpling up the paper and handing it over to his 'assistant.' She smoothed it out, reading it over.

"What's wrong with this one?"

"It's not flowing right." He said, letting the pen run across a different piece. She sighed, tossing it into the waste basket with ease. He groaned.

"Now what?"

"I can't do this." He frowned, going to rip the paper out once again. She pulled the notebook away from him, scanning the new lines. _Tonight I walked into the bedroom. You were visibly upset. Telling me I made a bad move, but I didn't do nothing. _

"And what's wrong with **this **one? I like it."

"I don't." He made a face.

"Cause you're not inspired." She sang, smiling.

"Shut up, Macy."

"Ha. You know I'm right." She snorted. "You are lacking inspiration."

"Shut up." He pouted. But she just kept going. And going. That was one of Macy's problems. She rambled. A lot. "Macy, shut up." He snapped. She seemed taken back.

"I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need help, alright? I can do this by myself."

"Really? Cause it doesn't look like it." She stood, slapping the notebook down in his lap and leaving the room in a huff.

"Macy, wait." He stood, gathering his things. "Macy!" He called, sprinting after her.

"What?" She said, stopping at her locker. She dialed in the combination, letting it swing open.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you like that. I'm just stressed." He apologized, studying her expression. "And in my defense, you were babbling."

"I was what?" She asked, glaring. "Okay, yeah, I get off topic. But, it's not **my** fault you can't write a song to save your life. _I_ was just trying to help." She spat, turning away.

"Macy, chill out. You're over reacting." She rolled her eyes, taking her jacket out of the locker and slamming it closed, nearly snapping his finger in in the process. "Oh, now you're just being a baby."

"Shut up, Joe." She mocked his voice.

"I don't sound like that."

"Yes, you do." She laughed. He frowned, stepping in front of her, arms crossed. "Move."

"No. Not until you apologize."

"Me?" She gasped. "What did I do?"

"You're being very mean to me!"

"You're the one who got all snippy when I tried to help!"

"I don't need help!"

"You are so full of yourself!" She yelled, surprising him. "Every day you've acted like this. You act like you're so amazing, that you can do everything. Face it, Joe, you're not perfect! Why can't you accept help from someone at least once? Can't you get over yourself long enough to do that?"

"M-Macy.." She whirled around, heading for a different door at the other end of the hall.

"When you're ready, you know where to find me."

* * *

Macy sat in the music room, arms crossed staring at Joe Lucas. He was standing in front of her, a guitar in his arms. "I got inspired." He said softly. She smiled slightly, leaning forward in interest. "It's not finished yet, but.." He bit his lip before allowing his fingers to dance along the strings.

_You should know_

_Everywhere I go_

_You're always on my mind, in my heart and in my soul  
_

_You know our love was meant to be_

_The kind of love that lasts forever_

_And I want you here with me_

_From tonight until the end of time  
_

She watched in wonder and amazement at the words. He peeked up, flashing a smile small before continuing.

_You should know, everywhere I go_

_You're always on my mind, in my heart_

_In my soul, baby_

_You're the meaning in my life_

_You're my inspiration_

_You bring feeling to my life_

_You're my inspiration_

_Wanna have you near me_

_I wanna have you hear me sayin'_

_No one needs you more than I need you_

He stopped, looking up and catching her eyes. "That's it." He mumbled, blushing. "So far." He placed the guitar down, leaning it against the table.

"That was amazing!" She squealed, shooting up and wrapping her arms around him, surprising but him and herself. He returned the embrace, burying his face in her hair. She smiled.

"You liked it?"

"I loved it."

"Well, uh, I was wondering..." He started. "If you'd help me finish it?" She pulled away, looking up at him in surprise.

"Really?"

"Really." A wide smile stretched across her face.

"I'd love to."

* * *

**  
Not sure what I think about this yet.  
Reviews are appreciated. :)  
**


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